Flamingo Haired Delivery Girl
by Annoying Voice In Your Head
Summary: After unwillingly flying to Japan for the summer, Dallas gets a job at her dad's bakery as a delivery girl. Her first stop: Ouran Academy. RxR. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first fanfiction. I'm happy to share it with you all :)**

**This story takes place around the time before the Host Club is in Karuizawa. Ouran's summer break starts one week after schools in the United States have theirs.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC. I only own Dallas and the other OC's.**

**Rating: T for language.**

**Tell me what you think about the story :) Constructive criticism helps too.**

* * *

Mother hates me.

I knew that a long time ago, but I only confirmed it now. Since I was born she would always compare me to my sister and how I should be more like her. Even Meredith, my only sister, looks down on me. I'm invisible to Mother and Meredith. My dad always paid attention to me, not that he ignored Meredith all the time. I didn't mind being ignored though—more freedom for me. Mother and Dad divorced when I was only ten years old. I'm seventeen now. After the divorce, my dad moved to Japan and opened a small bakery there called Dallas's Pastry Shop—named after his hometown and me.

Back to my mom hating me, she decided to send me away for the summer. To Japan. Now, I have nothing against Japan, but I planned on spending the summer with my best friends, Chase and Aria. We were going to go to their family's beach house in Miami. Mother didn't like the idea and prevented me from going to Miami by sending me to live with Dad for the summer. I hated the idea, although I haven't seen Dad in a long time.

Meredith didn't have to go because she's already heading to college and buying her own apartment. That bitch.

* * *

Dad wasn't able to pick me up from the airport so I took the train and bus to his house. Thank goodness the bus driver understood English. It wasn't hard to find Dad's house when I arrived in his neighborhood. One thing for sure, Dad was never good at gardening, painting (despite being a baker and designing cakes), and keeping his home in one piece. Weeds overtook the front lawn, and I'm pretty sure the backyard was the same and the lawn needed to be mowed. The roof was missing a few shingles, the paint was peeling off, and one of the shutters was hanging loose from a window.

I carried my luggage up the front porch. I searched for the spare key and found it in one of the fake potted plants. Dad is too predictable.

"Surprise!"

Confetti was blown into my face, someone played the kazoo, and I'm sure that same person squeezed the life out of me.

"Hey, Dad." I deadpanned. "Uh, can you let me go?"

"Dallas! It's so wonderful to see you again!" Dad let me go. "How's Texas? Is your mother treating you well? Are the kids at school treating you well?"

"Texas is great, as always, Mother still ignores me and yells at me when I get a B in my report card, and no one is bullying me. "

"Good. I'll show you to your room. You must be pretty tired from jet lag."

"Yeah, kinda."

Dad led me upstairs to my door. On my door was a name tag paint blue with silver outlining it. My room wasn't big, but it isn't small either. My room was painted hot pink and black, my favorite colors. The bed had a zebra print comforter and pillows. There were the usual things; a dresser, closet, and desk. Sitting on the desk was a blue MacBook Air with a black Apple logo.

"Did you win the lottery?" I asked, skeptical. "Or did you rob a bank?"

Dad chuckled and ruffled my hair, which I frown upon, "No, Dally. I used up the money from the bakery to buy these for you so you could enjoy your summer here. But don't spend all your summer in here, using that laptop."

That explains a lot.

"You didn't have to do all this, but thank you."

"Anything for my little Dally." I didn't like that nickname, but Dad refuses to stop calling me that. "I'll leave you to sleep. I gotta head to work so I'll see you later."

"'Kay, bye Dad."

"Bye Dally."

I plopped on the bed and closed my eyes. Dad turned off the lights and shut the door to let me sleep. I would never be able to sleep if the door was open, not even a crack, and if the lights were on. I don't know why, but it just bugs me.

~Four Hours Later~

I woke up from my sleep, and went downstairs into the kitchen. Dad wrote the bakery address and left it on the counter along with a cheese omelet and a few pastries he made. Dad always wanted to be a pastry chef, even as a kid. And he was an excellent one at that. Mother was never able to top his desserts. Actually, she was horrible in the kitchen. Even toast came out burnt. And she was using a toaster.

After eating, I went back upstairs to unpack my things. I only hung a few of my clothes in the closet i before throwing most of them in the dresser. I'm not the most organized person in the planet. I could be, if I had some motivation and if I was tired of hearing my mother screech at how messy my closet and room was. But she's not here to criticize me now.

I opened my new laptop and logged into my Oovoo account. No one was online. I only had four friends. Most ignored me because they think it's weird to be friends with a girl that has pink hair. Yeah, you heard it right. I have pink hair. I dyed my hair white when I was twelve. Then I dyed it red but the color turned pink, and I liked it so I just kept it that way. Although, Mother nearly had a heart attack when she saw my hair the next day, but I regret nothing. Most would think I dyed my hair because of the divorce, but it's not. I dyed it so people won't know I'm related to Mother and Meredith.

I changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a black shirt. I sat back down in front of the laptop and checked to see if I received any messages from my friends. There was one, and it was from Aria. It just asked how I was doing there and that she and Chase missed me already. I replied back, telling them I missed them too and that I was already in Japan. After I logged out, I plopped on my bed and switched on my iPod. I dozed off and didn't wake up until the next day.

* * *

"Dally, wake up!" I groaned and rolled over, covering my head with a pillow. I looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 6:00 A.M. What the hell was Dad waking me up early for? And it's summer vacation!

"What, Dad?" I asked.

"It's time to get up. I'm taking you to work with me."

"Why do I have to go?"

"Because I'm not allowing my daughter to sit here and do nothing but eat and sleep during the summer. Plus, you need to get some sun. You're pale as a porcelain doll."

"Dad, I can only freckle and burn. I can never tan."

"Whatever. Get up! I need help with deliveries today. And Daichi, my delivery boy, is out sick."

I sat up, "Fine, but if I have to get up this early in the morning during the summer, I better get paid."

"Deal."

After taking a shower, I put on a pink shirt, a black hoodie, running shorts, and black Converse. I grabbed my keys, my phone, the money, and my iPod. I locked the door behind me and walked to the bus stop down the block with Dad. The bus arrived five minutes later.

* * *

"Dad, I don't even understand Japanese. How am I supposed to deliver the customer's orders?" I asked once we reached the bakery. It didn't open until seven, but Dad had to set out the pastries and bread. He put on an apron that had the bakery's logo on it and gave me a shirt that had the same thing.

"Most of my customers speak and understand English so it won't be a problem. Just give them their order and they'll give you the money. You're lucky we only have one delivery order today, but it's a big one."

"Define big."

"The customer order a fifty full cakes."

"Damn. Who would order that many?"

"I don't know, but they're regulars. Since it's their last day of school, they're having a party before everyone leaves for the summer."

"They're college students?"

"High school, actually. And it's for a host club too."

"A host club? They allow high school students to have a host club? The hell?"

"That's what I said when I first found out. But it doesn't matter. They're just gentlemen who are flirting with girls. As long as they're not doing anything too inappropriate, the principal doesn't mind."

"I still find that kinda stupid, but whatever."

"Well, could you help me out with this in the meantime? The host club wants the cakes delivered at three P.M so you can wait until then." I took the tray of cinnamon buns from him and set them out in the display case. I wiped the counter, counted the money in the cash register, swept the floor, put down the chairs from the tables, and wiped the tables. Dad went into the kitchen to start baking more goods.

I wonder how Dad handles all the customers when, or if, he suddenly runs out of goods and there are hundreds of customers waiting for their order, delivery, pickup, or direct. It's just this Daichi dude and him so it can be tough. I bet Daichi gets paid a lot since he's the only employee.

There were a lot of customers coming in when we opened. Most were business people buying coffee and a croissant on their way to work. I worked at the register and gave out the coffee and food. A few customers asked if I was a new employee, if I was American, and how I got my hair so pink. Like Dad said, most of the customers were able to speak English so I was able to answer. By 2:30, I left the bakery with all the cakes, the address to the school, and a cart to carry all the cakes.

* * *

This school is too fancy for its own good. The fact that this school is all pink makes me sick. Yes, I've said pink is my favorite color, but a whole pink school is just too much. And it's not the shade of pink I prefer—hot pink. Anyway, I put all the cakes into the cart—how they all fit in one single cart is still a mystery—and pushed it inside—ha, that's what she said—the building. I walked into the main office and asked the secretary the directions. She was surprised to find me, instead of Daichi, delivering. After that she gave a me a map with all the directions and routes marked to get to the Third Music Room. I thanked her and left the office.

I made my way through the massive halls. Some students who were leaving gave me odd looks and kept staring at me. It like they've never seen someone their age working before. Damn rich kids. I glared at them and they turned away. It could've been worse. The hallways looked like the interior of St. Peter's Basilica (my history teacher showed us a picture) with chandeliers, pink paint, and nature paintings.

After what seems like forever, I found the Third Music Room. There was a sign outside that said 'Closed'. Over a hundred girls in yellow umbrella-looking dresses were outside waiting behind a velvet rope. What the heck? I kicked the door and yelled, "Delivery!". A boy with black hair and glasses opened the door and let me in. I heard the girls outside say "aw" because they weren't let in and I was. Inside there were six other boys. One was tall with blond hair and blue eyes, two were identical with auburn hair and amber eyes, two were shorter than me—one brunette and feminine looking and the other blond and childish looking—and the last one was really tall and stoic.

The tall blond —he looked French—said something to me in Japanese. I raised an eyebrow and replied in French, "Je ne comprends pas le japonais." Then he said, "Vous n'êtes pas Daichi." Thank you, Mother, for forcing me to take French.

I replied, "Merci de remarquer l'évidence. Je remplace pour Daichi."

"Oh, je vois. Bienvenue au club hôte! Je suis Tamaki Suoh."

"C'est merveilleux. Où dois-je prendre ces gâteaux?"

"Ah, oui." He started speaking to his friends in Japanese. Next thing I know, the tallest guy in the room takes the cart from and pushes it into a different room. Okay, then. Glasses boy gave me a check, which I put in my hoodie pocket.

"Quel est votre nom?" Tamaki asked.

"Dallas."

"Vous êtes le propriétaire de Pastry Shop Dallas's?"

"Non, mon père est. Il a nommé la boulangerie après moi et à Dallas, Texas. Regardez, je peux avoir mon panier retour afin que je puisse partir?"

"Oui. Mori!" The tall boy came back out with my cart and gave it to me.

"Merci." I turned around and left. The line of girls outside was longer than earlier. Some girls glared at me and I rolled my eyes. There was no point in learning the other boys' names because I probably would never see them again.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Dallas: I don't understand Japanese.**

**Tamaki: You're not Daichi.**

**Dallas: Thanks for pointing out the obvious. I'm just substituting for Daichi.**

**Tamaki: Oh, I see. Welcome to the Host Club! I'm Tamaki Suoh.**

**Dallas: That's wonderful. Where do I take these cakes?**

**Tamaki: Ah, yes. What's your name?**

**Tamaki: You are the owner of Dallas's Pastry Shop?**

**Dallas: No, my dad is. He named the bakery after me and Dallas, Texas. Look, I can have my cart back so I can leave?**

**Tamaki: Yes.**

**Dallas: Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC. I only own Dallas and the other OC's.**

**Rating: T for language.**

**Thanks for the reviews. :)**

**I don't own OHSHC.**

**Oh, and I kinda got tired of translating back and forth from language to language so I decided to just write it in English, but I'll tell you what language they're speaking.  
**

**Sorry for the long wait.**

**This is all in Dallas's POV  
**

* * *

I opened the door of the bakery and walked behind the counter where Dad was taking orders. He immediately spotted me (how could I be that hard to find?) and switched shifts. He went back into the kitchen while I had to take the orders. Dad needs more employees. He only hired one other person because he doesn't want to pay more. He spends most of the profits on supplies and he spent it on my bedroom, by the way that wasn't necessary.

Two hours and 50-something customers later, the bakery was no longer crowded. Thank God. Now I can rest and start my summer book report. It's not fun, but I love reading and I want to get the report done before doing anything else.

"So, how was your first time delivering?" Dad asked, coming out of the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from me.

"Dad, I was a pizza delivery girl in Texas," I replied, flipping a page. "It's nothing new."

"Okay, how was your first time delivering in a foreign country?"

"It was fine. One of the boys spoke French so that's how I communicated with him. I don't know, I gave the cakes, got the money, and left."

"And you didn't bother to make friends or get the boys' numbers?"

"You know, normally a dad would be overprotective of their daughter hanging out with boys, but you actually encourage it. What's up with that?"

"Don't get the wrong idea. I just don't want you to be bored while you're here, and if hanging out with boys is what it takes, then so be it. But if they try anything to harm you, I'll hunt them down with my rifle."

"Of course you would."

"And you know why I would? It's because—"

"—You don't ever mess with Texas."

"Exactly. And that includes every single Texan."

Dad, like many other Texans I know, takes pride in his hometown and will defend it when other people crack stupid jokes about Texas. Most of them claimed they were there since the Texas Revolution and fought with Davy Crockett. Then again, most of them were institutionalized and/or on weed or cocaine. Meanwhile, Mother was born in Vegas so she didn't care about Texas as much as Dad. She only stayed there because of her job. Why Dad married her still remains a mystery to me.

"Got it, Dad."

"Good, now keep reading that book. In a fifteen minutes, we'll close up and have a dinner. Then we'll come back here, even if the bakery is empty on most nights."

"Where are we having dinner?"

"It's a secret."

"Great. Now I feel scared."

"Just finish reading."

"Yes, Dad."

* * *

"So, out of all the restaurants on the block, you couldn't pick Wendy's?" I asked, looking at Dad. We were sitting inside Kintaro's Shrimp Lounge, waiting for our order to arrive.

"What? The owner gives me a fifteen percent discount."

"You bake a cake for his or her kid's birthday?"

"Every single year."

"Gotcha."

Our order finally came to us. Dad ordered for me and I got oyakodon, which I think is chicken and egg over rice. I grabbed the chopsticks and began trying to pick up the chicken. _Trying_. I can't use chopsticks to save my life.

After several attempts, I threw the chopsticks away and picked up the fork. "You just love to torture me." I stabbed every piece of chicken and egg and ate them.

Dad chuckled at me, "I can't believe you still don't know how to use chopsticks."

"It's like trying to eat with knitting needles!"

"Have you tried the rubber band trick?"

"I do. Every single time Jamie, Ian, Chase, Aria, and I order Chinese take-out during movie night, food was flies everywhere."

Dad smirked. "At least now I know why you wanted to go to Wendy's."

I rolled my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw six boys and a girl walk in. I don't know why a bunch of strangers would interest me, but they looked pretty familiar from somewhere. I'm never really good with faces or names. Usually you would have to remind me the second time we meet each other. Or at least be really bitchy that I hate you so much that it kills me when your name pops into my mind. Maybe just be interesting enough that I actually bother to remember.

As soon as the tall blond boy turned around and made eye contact with me, he got all excited and ran up to my and Dad's table.  
He said in French, "It's so great to see you again, Dallas!"  
I raised an eyebrow and raised my eyebrow, and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Next thing I knew, he was sulking in a corner. Dad looked at me with a skeptical look, but I just shrugged. I don't know who Blondie was, but in a creepy-stalker way, he knew me. Two of his friends, redhead twins, approached me. The one on the left spoke up in perfect English.

"What did you say to Tamaki?" Tamaki...Where have I heard that name?...Oh, now I remember! He was that weirdo that was in that Whore Club, the place that ordered the 50 cakes! Wait, did I even get the name right? Oh well, who cares.

"I just asked who he was. I don't remember him that much. Well, bye."

"Do you even know our names?"

"No, and frankly, I don't care. Even if I did, I wouldn't remember it because I have a horrible memory."

"Yet you remember everything about the Pythagorean theorem," muttered Dad. "Or anything that involves math, science, and technology." Tweedledum translated to Tweedledee and they both gave me weird looks.

"Math, science, and technology interests me more than people," I replied.

"Are you some some sort of nerd?"

"Actually, I prefer you call me a neek and, no I don't mean the creature from Star Wars. See, a nerd is just someone who usually pursues intellectual activities, esoteric knowledge or other obscure interests rather than engaging in social activities. A geek, whereas, notes individual's idiosyncrasies, especially his or her obsession with one or more things, which may or may not be intellectual. I'm both; neek. " Dad, the Whore Club, and the girl gave me weird looks; however, I'm pretty sure most of them didn't understand me"What?"

"Why do you even know that?" Dad asked incredulously.

"Because people always get those terms mixed up, and it's annoying. Duh."

"You're weird," Tweedledum said.

"Thank you. Bye." I stabbed a piece of chicken as they left, following the girl.

"Who were they? How do you know them?"

"I don't know their names, except maybe Tamaki, the bipolar blond. They were the people that ordered the 50 cakes."

"Oh. So...how's your mother?"

I deadpanned, "Do you really want to go there?"

"I had nothing else to say!"

* * *

~Three Days Later~

Dad, Daichi, and I were staying at Karuizawa for the week. I don't know. Something about 'having to spend quality time with your 17 year old daughter when she unwillingly stays with you in a foreign country for the summer to makeup for the seven years you weren't there because you got divorced from your crazy ex-wife and moved to a foreign country and opened up a bakery shop named after your youngest daughter and you somehow include your employee into this' and crap like that. He probably read it in a parenting book Daichi's mom gave him.

Oh, and yeah I did get to meet Daichi. When I woke up three mornings ago, he was eating breakfast on our couch and watching TV, like he actually lived there. I thought he was a homeless person, for some reason, but then Dad told me it was Daichi. Daichi was pretty cool. He's a college student at Tokyo U and he works part-time at bakery.

Anyway, Dad had this friend in Karuizawa, who owned a pension, and he reserved two rooms, Dad and Daichi share a room while I have my own (the joys of being a girl). I guess it's kinda cool. At least I'm not stuck at the bakery all day. It gets boring easily, just delivering food and talking to the same two people 24/7. Okay, it's only been four days since I started working there, but still.

The pension was pretty cool. It had beautiful scenery and the air was warm and fresh outside. Perfect for the summer. After Dad, Daichi, and I unpacked our bags in our separate rooms, we had brunch downstairs.

After that, I worked on my summer homework outside on the deck. My teachers hate me so much that they want me to spend the rest of the summer working, and yet they admire me at the same time so the work wasn't too hard. They hate me because I was on a scholarship, instead of paying the tuition for the private boarding school I went to, and they admire me because I was "extremely smart" and paid attention to them no matter how boring they are. Plus, Mother is a real estate agent who sold fancy mansions to them so its a bonus.

I heard helicopters above the pension and looked up. It was only one helicopter, but it was loud and the wet white bed sheets that were outside to dry flew away. Well, looks like Misuzu, who owns the pension, will have to restock. That bipolar blond I met days ago was inside the helicopter, yelling at Haruhi (the short brunette I saw days ago and only learned her name today). Did I mention Dad has been teaching me Japanese? So yeah, I knew a few words and phrases well.

He yelled, "Haruhi! Are you alright? Daddy is here!" Man, I feel bad for this girl.

As the helicopter descended, I walked away with my homework and upstairs into my room. These guys are everywhere! At the restaurant and now here. I grabbed my soccer ball, which I brought with me for the summer in case I was bored and went downstairs to the lounge where Daichi was sitting. Dad was busy helping Misuzu with the food.

"Daichi-kun, wanna play soccer?" I asked in Japanese.

"Sure, but I suck at it," Daichi replied.

"That's okay. All we're gonna do is pass the ball. I need to warm-up a bit before I get back home for soccer tryouts."

"Oh yeah, Wright-san mentioned you played soccer. Is it that the main sport there?"

"Yup, I do play, but football is omnipresent in Texas than soccer. People practically live and breathe football. I play football at the rec center. Did you know that soccer is actually just a nickname for Association Football?"

"Really?" He didn't seem interested but I still kept talking as we walked out into the backyard. We passed the boys from that club, who didn't really notice us.

"Yeah, see there were many types of football so the Americans decided to shorten it from the word 'association' to tell the difference between American football, Australian Rules, and Rugby."

"That's wonderful. Do you always spout random facts?"

"Usually that's Chase's job, but I guess it rubbed off on me."

"Chase?"

"My super genius friend."

"Oh."

We kicked the ball around a bit. Daichi helped me do a few soccer drills, though he sucked at controlling the ball. He was good at being goalkeeper.  
"Heads up!" I kicked the ball with all the force in my leg. The ball flew way over past Daichi's head...

And landed directly on Tamaki's, who just came outside of the pension.

Oh shit.

* * *

**You see that review button down there?**

**Yeah?  
**

**Hit it. I dare you.  
**

**;)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC. I only own Dallas and the other OC's.**

**Rating: T for language.**

**Thanks for the reviews and adding this story to the favorites list :)**

**Also: I am so sorry about not updating for a long time! I've been busy with my school stuff, hanging out with friends, and then I bought my new laptop. But then my mom took it away so I would finish my summer reading and math. And then school started. Then Hurricane Sandy came and cut off my power. Again, I'm really sorry. Forgive me? :)**

**And I'm sorry if I didn't write Kyoya out perfectly. He's one of the characters who are hard to write for me.  
**

**This chapter is short and sort of a filler...**

* * *

I feel like I'm in elementary school again. I remember one time, in the fourth grade, I kicked a soccer ball so hard and it hit my gym teacher's balls and he sent me to the principal's office for "assaulting a faculty member", even if it was totally accidental. The principal called my parents and I was suspended for ten days. Mother threw a fit and grounded me while Dad scolded me and then praised me for a good kick. Right now, it feels exactly like that. Except, the ball hit Tamaki's head and knocked him out, and I'm not at the principal's office, waiting to be punished. I'm waiting for Tamaki to wake up so I won't be punished or possibly kicked out of the country for good.

"He'll wake up in a few minutes," Misuzu said, leaving and ice pack on Tamaki's head. "I'm off now! I have to go tend to the other customers!"

"I'm so sorry about hitting your friend," I said to Glasses. I didn't know his name yet. "But in my defense, I did say "heads up"."

"Well, you shouldn't be apologizing to me, Wright-san," he said. "Tell Tamaki when he wakes up."

"How do you know my name?"

He smirked and pushed up his glasses. "I have my sources."

"Okay then...creep." His glasses had a glare when he looked at me.

"So now you know how to speak Japanese?" Tweedledum and Tweedledee asked me in unison. Do they always do that?

"I've been learning. Who is who?"

"Guess."

I rolled my eyes, "How am I supposed to guess if I don't know your names in the first place?"

"The one on the left is Kaoru and the one on the right is Hikaru," Haruhi cut in. "Kaoru is better at English than Hikaru."

"Haruhi! You're no fun!" They whined.

"Whatever. Anyway," Haruhi pointed at the short blond that looks like a five year old. "this is Haninozuka Mitsukuni-senpai, but you can call him Honey," she pointed at the tall dude," this is his cousin, Morinozuka Takashi-senpai, but you can call him Mori," and finally, Glasses Boy, "and this is Ootori Kyoya-senpai. You already met Tamaki-senpai. And knocked him unconscious." Gee, Haruhi. Way to make me feel better.

"Nice to meet you all...again?" I said. We heard a bit of a groan coming from the couch, and looked over at Tamaki. He stirred a bit before falling off the couch, waking him up.

"Ah, Tono! You're awake!" Tweedledee, Hikaru I think, said.

"Hey Tamaki," I said. "Sorry about hitting you with that ball."

"That's okay, my daughter!" He replied, taking my hand. "You didn't mean to hit Daddy."

I looked at Kyoya, pulling my hand away. "I think he has a concussion, which is causing him to be delusional. He thinks he's my dad."

"No, that's just Tamaki in general."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

* * *

In a matter of minutes, Tamaki was well enough to stand on his own. He, Hikaru, Kaoru, Honey, and Mori resumed to their previous activities. Haruhi informed me that it was a contest to see who was the most "refreshing", according to Misuzu, and whoever wins gets to stay in the available guest room at the pension. So far, Mori and the twins were in the lead. Tamaki was horrible at working (hammered his own thumb) and Honey was just using his cuteness (Misuzu doesn't find this refreshing).

Meanwhile, I was on Oovoo with Aria, Chase, Ian, and Jamie, and ignoring my homework. Jamie was in Portland with her dad, who is a movie director and producer. And Ian was in Paris, shopping and helping his mom with her fashion show. And Aria and Chase are in Miami, but they weren't there for anything related to their parent's jobs.

"I'm telling you, you should be here in Portland like now!" Jamie said, taking a bite out of a doughnut. She had gotten back from some place called Voodoo Doughnuts. "Mhhm. These doughnuts are amazing. I already sent you guys packages of them so you should be getting them soon."

"I never told you my address," The rest of us replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I have my sources." Rich people, I swear.

"Ignoring the fact that you tracked us down like a stalker, I just met Marc Jacobs and Stella McCartney at the fashion show!" Ian flailed.

Aria raised an eyebrow, "And you didn't get me an autograph?"

"Don't worry, I did. I would never ever meet my favorite fashion designers and not get an autograph for my fashion partner in crime."

Aria clapped, "Yay! You're the best! Chase and I went to a museum and I met a cute tour guide there. His name is Austin, and he's so cute!"

"Then some girl walked up to me and started talking to me while I was looking at one of the exhibits," Chase added. "She kept twirling her hair and and blinking rapidly so I asked if there was something in her eye. She didn't understand the concept of personal space; she just kept standing close to me. I told her to back off, but all she did was pop her gum and asked if I wanted to do it in the bathroom. I told her that I already went to the bathroom before I left home, and she just kept giving me a weird look. Eventually Aria and I had to leave."

Oh dear Lord... This boy is so sheltered, but I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Chase, she didn't mean do it in the bathroom as in poop or pee, she meant something else..."

"Which is...?"

Jamie groaned, "Sex, Chase. She meant have sex with her in the bathroom."

"Oh..." I couldn't really blame him for not knowing. Chase skipped middle school a long time ago and never learned about sex and stuff like that. He's book smart, not street smart.

"So what's up with you Dally? Any cute boys?" Aria asked.

"I kicked a ball and knocked someone unconscious. He's fine now, but I think I caused him to be delusional. He called me his daughter, and he's only like seventeen."

"Dallas, what did I say about kicking soccer balls at people?"

"Hey, I was practicing for tryouts when I get back home, and he and his friends just walked out when the ball was flying towards them! I did yell heads up in Japanese too!"

"Since when did you speak Japanese?"

"I'm currently learning. I am in Japan, after all."

"You should so teach me that when you get back here!"

"I'll try..."

"Dally!" I heard Dad yell downstairs. I rolled my eyes. One of these days, he's gonna have to stop calling me that.

I turned back to my laptop, "I gotta go. My dad's calling."

"Aw...Alright."

"Talk to you next week."

"Don't forget about soccer tryouts!"

"Never will!" I logged out and shut down my laptop. I went downstairs to find Dad holding out a giant bucket of dirty dishes.

"Here," he handed me the bucket. "Have fun, Dally."

"Quit calling me that!" I shouted over my shoulder before heading into the kitchen.


End file.
